


rock, paper, scissors...shoot!

by scheifsforlife



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2016-2018 Timeline, M/M, Not from the Main Character, Other Person POV, Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:28:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24452125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scheifsforlife/pseuds/scheifsforlife
Summary: Mark Scheifele is just a guy, okay?  He doesn't know how his life went from playing a harmless game of rock, paper, scissors with a guy he barely knew during warmies to eating dinner at Tyler Seguin's house, being death-glared into the next galaxy by Jamie Benn, and being ambushed in front of his own locker room by Tyson Barrie.  Heck, even Patrick Kane had something to say about it!  He doesn't know where anyone got the idea that he was suddenly "Seggy's Boy" from because before 2017, Mark couldn't even tell you his mom's name.  And he talks about her.  All.  The.  Time.orHow Mark Scheifele's life gets turned on its head all because he wanted to have a little fun.
Relationships: Jamie Benn/Tyler Seguin, Minor Patrick Kane/Jonathan Toews - Relationship
Comments: 13
Kudos: 113





	rock, paper, scissors...shoot!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So, this is my first actual Hockey RPF fic...hopefully it's good! Some of the events that occur have been altered for the sake of storytelling (outside of just being canon-divergent), and I'm sorry if anything comes off as weird because I'm pretty new to this, and I have no idea what I'm doing. Please enjoy though!

It starts when they play the Stars in late October in Winnipeg. Mark has always liked being the last one off the ice, just an old hockey superstition that he started back when he was in junior. Unfortunately for him, a lot of players in the league like to be last off. Most of the time though, players followed the whole “whoever has home-ice advantage” rule. So, he really doesn’t think anything of it when Tyler starts heading towards the visiting locker room entrance because that’s just how it works in the NHL.

Although Mark is a year younger than Tyler, he knows of him from their younger days. They lived a few hours away from each other and sometimes Mark would run into him when his team was playing a tourney in Brampton. The hockey community, especially when you get up to minor midget and triple-A, wasn’t that big. He would see a lot of people who were now in the NHL from time to time, like Stromer or Murph.

He didn’t see Tyler that often, once or twice before he was invited to do a tour of the Whalers’ facilities before he decided to go over to the OHL. They exchanged light pleasantries and Tyler did the whole captain’s speech with a “We would love to have you on the team,” and an “I’ve seen some of your tape,” thrown in there. Although, now, Mark is sure that Tyler knew they weren’t going to be playing together. Cocky jerk probably knew he was going high in the draft and would be off to the NHL whether or not Mark came to the Whalers. 

Now, he sometimes sees Tyler in the summer, but that’s common. He lives in Toronto full-time during the offseason and a bunch of guys train there together. He probably sees Tyler about the same amount that he sees Stammer or Davo. It’s just a GTA thing.

Which is why it surprises Mark so much when Tyler takes a knee, throws his glove off, and starts moving his fist up and down. He’s even pretty sure that he sees him mouth “Rock, paper, scissors Scheifs!”, which is not okay at all. 

Scheifs is reserved for teammates and occasionally, friends. And, even though they sort of, kind of, grew up together, Mark would consider them the farthest thing from being friends. They were acquaintances, who sometimes shared workout tips with each other. That was all.

Friends insinuated that they knew each other personally. Like on an “I know your mom’s first name,” or an “I share my secrets with you,” level. Mark knows everything about Tyler’s hockey, like what kind of stick he uses and how he shoots, but he couldn’t tell you the last thing about Tyler’s personal life. He thinks, maybe if he racks his brain, he’d be able to find Tyler’s mom’s name, something with a J? It just goes to show that he doesn’t really know Tyler because according to some people, (mainly Wheels) Tyler talks about his mom. **All. The. Time**.

Still, he humours him and plays back anyways. After all, it’s just warmies, and it’ll be a little bit of fun before he has to go play a game. They tie a couple of times before Mark plays scissors to Tyler’s rock, and suddenly, it’s over as quickly as it started. Mark fist-pumps a little bit as he watches Tyler disappear into the visiting locker room. Score one for the Jets and the game hasn’t even started yet.

They end up winning the game 4-1. Tyler scores the Stars lone goal, but Mark gets an assist on one of the Jets goals, and that feels sweeter. A win, two points, and beating Tyler in rock, paper, scissors is pretty good for one night. He goes through his on-ice post-win ritual, giving Helley a tap on the mask and Patty a fist bump before heading to the locker room.

He doesn’t notice the large grin and small wave that Tyler gives him from across the ice where the Stars are going into their own locker room, or the Stars’ captain, Jamie Benn death-glaring him in the two minutes it takes him to get off. But who cares about that? The Jets just won!

* * *

They don’t play rock, paper, scissors again that season, although the Jets play the Stars another 3 times, with spectacular results. Mark especially liked the 8-2 blowout. But it doesn’t matter, because it’s the summer now, and neither of their teams made the playoffs. It’s a little disappointing to be heading home early for the second year in a row, but Mark has a feeling they’ll be back next year. The talent’s there, and all he has to do is continue to bring his A-game.

Most people in his little GTA training group are around by May, which Mark is glad about. He could only get better if he practiced against the best. And even though Davo wasn’t around, Marns, Stromer and Dylan (Mark had decided that calling him Lil Stromer was pretty inconvenient) were all pretty elite themselves.

They’re all at the rink in Downtown Toronto, chatting a little bit outside the locker rooms as the rec league team finishes up their practice and the Zamboni rolls out when Mark hears someone shouting his name from a few metres behind him.

“Scheifs! Buddy!”

He turns towards the sound instinctually. This ends up being a terrible idea, as he quickly gets barrelled into by an almost 200 pound Tyler Seguin, who is not only carrying his gear bag but also his stick, which pokes Mark in an unfortunate place. He bowls over, clutching his stomach, trying his best to ignore Marns’s and Lil Stromer’s (force of habit) laughs.

“Tyler. What’s up?” he says, gritting his teeth.

Tyler bro-hugs him, thankfully having dropped his stuff on the ground before. Mark doesn’t hug back, a little bit uncomfortable with whatever the heck is going on. Tyler holds on for a few seconds longer than he probably should, but releases Mark promptly when he yelps to Stromer for a “little help”.

“What’dya need a little help for? It’s me! Tyler! Wow, that’s weird. I haven’t been called that by anyone but my family for years. Why are you calling me that? We’re friends! Call me Segs. Everyone does. I’m pretty sure you’ve called me that too! Why so formal? It’s not like…”

Tyler keeps rambling in his high-pitched, cheery voice, even though both Mark and Stromer try to get him to stop because people are starting to look their way. And okay, Mark didn’t consider himself a celebrity in the hockey world, but Marns plays for the Leafs and Tyler is a pretty big hot-shot in these parts. He doesn’t want to be stuck here for an hour waiting for them to finish signing autographs just because Tyler couldn’t shut the frick up. He loved kids, but practice couldn’t wait for them, especially when they already had limited ice-time because of the rec team.

The Zamboni finally finishes smoothing out the ice and Mark sees the last of the rec team members trickling out of the locker rooms, some of them mumbling a quick apology to the Stromes. Marns is rapidly picking up his stuff, and so is everyone else. Except for Tyler who is still babbling about, not even realizing that everyone is getting ready for skate. Mark picks up his own bag and stick, and with a sigh, he turns to Tyler.

“Tyler.”

Nothing. He tries again.

“Tyler.”

This time, Tyler does look up at him, before smirking and going back to his rant. Mark rolled his eyes. Clearly, Tyler was the biggest frickin jerk in the entire NHL and wouldn’t actually shut up unless Mark called him by the stupid nickname given to him by some other losers down in Texas.

“Segs,” he says, jaw clenched. “Let’s go.”

Tyler shuts up immediately, giving Mark a disgustingly cocky grin before grabbing his stuff and swinging a casual arm over Mark’s shoulder.

“Attaboy Scheifs! Doesn’t that feel so much better than boring old Tyler?”

Mark doesn’t say a thing as Tyler leads him into the locker room, even as a small grin starts to appear on his face. And that’s how Tyler somehow manages to convince Mark to call him Segs.

* * *

In late-August, Tyler, no, Segs invites him and the rest of the GTA crew for dinner at his house.

“Sort of, a farewell party 2 every1,” Segs had texted him. “But more like a see-u-l8r party, cause we’ll all be back next ☀️.”

He had promptly followed these texts with a GIF of a cat waving goodbye. Embarrassingly, Mark had actually laughed at that and sent back a 😂.

Surprisingly, he and Segs had become pretty close during the summer. They actually had a lot in common, from their mutual enjoyment of Marvel movies to a high dislike for the kale smoothie recipes that Davo sends them from time to time. Mark can confidently say now that he does know the names of both of Segs’s parents (Jackie and Paul) and can name all of his dogs (Cash, Marshall, and the new one, Gerry).

It’s kind of weird being friends, real friends with someone he didn’t know from juniors or before that. He hasn’t really had much time to make friends outside of the team in Winnipeg, and there was only so much time he could spare away from training in the summer, which he mainly used to catch up with his family and childhood friends. It was nice to know that there was someone outside of the team who he could trust.

So, considering that he and Segs are now pretty decent with each other, Mark agrees to come and finds himself at Segs’s house in Brampton the week after. Jackie answers the door and pulls him into a hug (the Seguins are very touchy people) that smells like sugar cookies and steak. A weird combination, but likely a precursor to whatever Segs had planned for them tonight.

“Or,” he muses to himself, as he greets Jackie and hands her the plate of fruit he brought. “Whatever Jackie made, cause Segs can’t cook to save his life.”

He’s one of the last ones to arrive it looks like, but he makes his way into Segs’s living room anyways. Davo, Marns, and Lil Stromer are engaged in a conversation about getting new cars, all of them sipping lightly on glasses of what looks to be cheap beer. None of them look drunk, although Lil Stromer looks slightly off-balance. Mark makes note that Lil Stromer is a lightweight, just in case he ever wants to take the kid out for a drink when he’s in town.

Stammer, who has finally, miraculously come out of his injury cave to civilization, is sitting on the couch next to Auston Matthews, who Marns apparently invited to Toronto. He’s looking at Stammer like he’s a god or something, clinging onto his every word as Stammer rambles on about fricking brands of resistance bands. Mark chuckles a little bit to himself. Frankly, Stammer looks a little bit uncomfortable with the hero worship being given to him and Matthews keeps moving closer and closer to him on the couch. Mark should save Stammer, but he figures letting this go on for a few more minutes couldn’t hurt.

The doorbell rings just as he’s heading to release Stammer from Matthews’ clutches, and he figures he’ll answer it for Jackie. She looks like she’s carrying a couple of bottles of expensive wine to the table, and well, he wouldn’t want that to go to waste. Also, he figures it’s just Stromer coming in from wherever he’s staying with his girlfriend. Or maybe Tyler decided to invite PK down to hang.

To his utter surprise, it isn’t either of them. No, it’s someone who, logically, shouldn’t even be here at all because from what Mark knows, he trains across the country in the summer. He should be in fricking Victoria right now, not standing on Segs’s doorstep with a two-four of Molson’s (which is a crap beer in Mark’s opinion).

Jamie Benn is staring at him, open-mouthed looking just as shocked as he is. Which makes no sense at all because really, who actually lives in the city and who flew in just to come to Segs’s sort of, kind of, going away party?

“What. The. Hell. Are. You. Doing. Here?” Jamie asked, in probably the most monotone voice Mark had heard since the first time he had met Jonathan Toews.

Before Mark can get out a “What the heck am **I** doing here? What the heck are you doing here?”, he’s being shoved to the ground by Segs who, for lack of a better term, **JUMPS** Jamie. Legitimately.

“Chubbs!!!” Segs says, so obnoxiously that Mark sees Lil Stromer cover his ears. “You made it!”

Jamie has dropped his two-four of Molson on Segs’s front porch in favour of wrapping his octopus arms around Segs, who immediately reciprocates by wrapping his **LEGS** around Jamie’s waist. If it hadn’t been for Stammer helping him up, Mark doesn’t think he would have made it back on his feet at all, too awestruck from the display in front of him.

He has always known that Jamie and Segs were a little bit...weird about each other, even by NHL standards. Most guys are just pretty close, but that’s all. Jamie and Segs take it to a whole other level that he’s only seen some guys reach. Like Kane and Toews or Crosby and Malkin. And those guys are **WAY** intense.

Mark has met Jonathan Toews a couple of times. Usually, they’ll see each other in Winnipeg whenever Mark is there for a charity event in the summer. Once, after the season ended, Mark saw him at the grocery store shopping for almond-milk. Typically, they are pretty civil with each other, but the one time that Mark had confronted Jonathan about his friendship with Patrick Kane, Mark almost peed his own pants from the glare he received from him. He remembers the conversation going a little bit like this.

“Are you and Patrick…like, together?”

Cue the Dagger… eyes.

But Mark had gotten confirmation that yes, Toews and Kane were together, for real. For almost a full decade. And on the other hand, he has heard first-hand accounts of Crosby sneaking into Malkin’s hotel room in the dead of night and then proceeding to show up to breakfast with a line of hickies running down his neck. So, it goes to show that the only other people in the league that were that weird about each other were banging.

“But maybe,” he thinks, as he watches Segs untangle himself from Jamie. “They are banging?”

Mark doesn’t think so. Now that he and Segs were on a “tell me all of your secrets” kind of friendship, Mark had learnt a lot about Segs, with the biggest thing being that he’s bisexual. Obviously, Mark hadn’t thrown a huge hissy fit about it because duh. You love who you love right? Mark didn’t care about that as long as Segs wasn’t some creeper and actually a good guy. But one of the things he did ask was if he was seeing anyone. Now that he’s looking back on it, Segs did seem a little shifty and was more red than usual, even though he said he wasn’t. But Mark trusts him. They’ve gotten to that level now. They don’t hide things from each other anymore.

Dinner is probably the most fun he’s had all summer. Everyone is bubbly and loose from the wine Jackie brought out and the Molson Jamie brought stays on the ground next to the cheap beer that Davo, Lil Stromer, and Marns came with. Secretly, Mark enjoys that it's there because he doesn’t have to then pretend that he actually enjoys it, even though he’s used to it cause, Canadian pride and all.

At one point, Lil Stromer (ever the lightweight) ends up spilling half of his glass of red onto Marns’s pristine white shirt, which causes a huge kerfuffle. Jackie is already running to the laundry room for the stain remover, Marns is yelling animatedly at Lil Stromer, arms flailing everywhere, and everyone else is laughing their heads off. Mark takes the opportunity to send an under-the-table text to Segs.

“Hey,” it says simply. “U n Benn?”

“Nah,” is what he gets back a couple of minutes later. “Just friends.” 

Feeling oddly satisfied that he and Segs are just that tight, Mark excuses himself from the gong show currently unfolding and heads to the bathroom. Since it’s, well, the bathroom, he doesn’t expect or want any company. But of course, the world doesn’t work that way and Jamie Benn comes in just as he’s washing his hands.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing at Scheifele,” he says, a large finger stabbing Mark straight in the diaphragm. “But I don’t like it one bit.”

Mark is dumbfounded.

“Uhhh, what? What game?”

Jamie looks disgusted like he thinks Mark is lying. Which, no. He lies about as much as he swears.

“Don’t play coy, you know what you’re doing. You’ve got Segs wrapped around your little finger.”

Mark is still so confused because if Jamie is worried about Mark creeping onto his friend territory, it certainly doesn’t warrant a bathroom ambush.

“Look, man if you’re worried that I’m intruding on your friendship or something, that’s really—”

Jamie shushes him.

“Save it for the ice Loserpeg. Just. Stay the fuck away from Seggy. Or else.”

And with that, Jamie leaves the bathroom. Mark doesn’t know if he should be offended that Jamie just called him Loserpeg or if he should seriously just forget about this whole, disgusting interaction altogether.

Judging by the fact that his fly is still open and the toilet hasn’t been flushed yet, he’s guessing the latter.

* * *

It’s not like he’s actively trying to listen to Jamie Benn. It’s just, Mark has realized that he and Segs were probably spending an unhealthy amount of time texting each other. That’s all. And the fact that Mark is frankly a little bit terrified of Jamie. It’s just, he’s sort of a big guy okay? Who fights, a lot. They aren’t too different in terms of height and weight, but Jamie has a lot more experience than him. He doesn’t want to be laid out. Everyone knows he’s more of a lover, not a fighter.

But, even if he’s the one ignoring Segs, it does make him feel a little bit sad when Segs doesn’t even make an effort to play rock, paper, scissors with him when they play the Stars in November at home. Later, after they win, he finds out that Segs tricked him into getting off and snuck back on. Which doesn’t count in Mark’s book, but the fact that he had to go that far just to avoid Mark made him really angry. 

Screw Jamie Benn. Segs is one of his best friends and he’ll be darned if he lets him go because some NHLer suddenly decides that Mark’s creeping on his friend. Jamie can fight him if he wants to and if that’s the price to pay to keep a friend, Mark will pay it all-day everyday.

He sends Segs a text when he gets home after the game when he knows that Segs is doing his “cool down”. It’s really just code for “I wanna check my phone in peace in the hallway,” which means Segs will be free.

Mark figures he should start casual, so he sends a “Hey. Missed u 4 rock, paper, scissors 2nite.”

Segs texts back almost immediately.

“Didn’t think u would want that. u know, considering you’ve been ignoring me for the past 2 months 😠”

Mark winces. It’s not like it isn’t true.

“Sry man. Been caught up with stuff during the season.”

It’s a total lie, but Mark really hopes that Segs doesn’t see through it. He doesn’t want to tell one of his best friends that he was told to back off by one of their best friends.

“I call bs Scheifs. Suddenly we can’t be friends during the season? I’ll c u in the ☀️ cause we can only b friends then by your standards.”

Okay then. Mark has to fix this, real fast. Or else, he’ll probably end up losing Segs, season or no season.

“I haven’t been ignoring u bc I hate u or something. Jamie told me to stay away.”

He doesn’t get a text back from Segs for a long time, so long that he’s in bed half asleep the next time his phone lights up with a text.

“Ignore him. I dealt with it.”

When the Jets are in Dallas a few days later, Segs is totally up to play rock, paper, scissors and Jamie Benn doesn’t so much as even look at him. Mark figures that’s the end of it. Jamie had stopped death-glaring Mark at every possible opportunity he got, and Segs sent him a string of memes about Squidward, cause he claims that Mark looks like him (which he doesn’t, but he got his friend back, so it doesn’t matter). Segs is his biffle (a Seguin trademarked term that has somehow made it into Mark’s vocabulary) again and Jamie and Segs seem good, considering they light up the fricking league. Everyone is happy. Mark is glad.

That is until the Jets play Dallas on the road, and he had to pick himself up off the ice from a bone-crushing hit given to him from none other than Jamie fricking Benn. Jamie is yelling something at him, but Mark ignores him. Mark had thought everything was okay between them and Segs, even though they hadn’t talked to each other directly about the situation. Jamie had been looking friendlier the last time they played each other, and if he had wanted to, he could’ve done something last time when the Jets were scoring goal after goal after goal. So why would he choose now?

“What the heck’s your problem man?” Mark asks, shoving Jamie a little bit in the chest.

Jamie retaliates by shoving him back, harder, so hard that he’s back on the ice.

“My problem, dickwad, is that you won’t stay the fuck away!”

Thank god for Wheels, who chooses that moment to break up their little argument and lay into Jamie himself. But that just seems to make Jamie angrier, and he actually takes a swing at Wheels. Oh, heck no. They’re sort of full-on fighting now, but like heck Mark will let Wheels take the fall for something he did. He doesn’t fight Jamie per se, but he does slash him real good, which just ends with him, Wheels, and Jamie in the penalty box and the Jets on the PK. He stares a little bit desperately at Segs on his way to the box, hoping that he gets the message that Mark is fricking pissed off and thought that Segs had taken care of the problem.

All he gets in return though is Segs mouthing an “I’ll fix it,” as Mark slams the door to the penalty box closed. And even with the 5 on 3 PK, the Jets still manage to pull out a win.

* * *

The thing with Jamie Benn doesn’t end there, but Mark can’t be focused on that at the moment. The playoff race is in full swing, and even though the Jets are almost a guaranteed lock for the playoffs, they still need to win games to make sure that they get in at a good seed. He doesn’t really have the time to worry about his friendship with some divisional rivals. Mark is fairly sure that the majority of players in the league are in that mode, which means he doesn’t have to deal with the Segs-Benn thing from until summer.

Which is why it throws Mark for a loop when he walks by Patrick Kane after morning skate one day and hears him call Mark “Seggy’s Boy.”

The situation itself isn’t all that uncommon. The Blackhawks are in town and, although the Jets should have cleared out almost half an hour ago to let them practice, Mark likes talking to some of the equipment staff after morning skate to make sure everything is ready for the game. He sometimes bumps into people from other teams, but he’ll usually just brush them off and go home, or if he knows some of them, he’ll stop for a quick chat. What really surprises Mark isn’t the fact that Patrick Kane is talking to him, but the fact that he’s calling him “Seggy’s Boy.”

Apparently, it surprises Jonathan Toews, who is walking behind Patrick, too because Mark hears a hissed “Kaner”. Patrick, however, clearly doesn’t listen because he just gives Jonathan a sleazy grin.

“C’mon Tazer. It’s not like he isn’t.”

Jonathan is rolling his eyes and face-palming, and maybe Mark should be too because he is so, so, **SO** confused. Since when has he ever been “Seggy’s Boy”?

“Whatever Tyler told you in confidence doesn’t have to be repeated here, you know, to Mark’s face.”

Jonathan gives Mark an apologetic look as he says it, although his voice is as monotone as ever and shows no signs of sympathy. Mark is still thoroughly shell-shocked, even though Patrick doesn’t seem as if he’s going to say anything else and is walking away. But, he can’t be walking away because he just told Mark that he was “Seggy’s Boy” and what the heck does that even mean? Someone has to explain, and it sure isn’t going to be “emotionally stunted about everyone except for Patrick Kane” Jonathan Toews.

“What’dya mean I’m Seggy’s boy?”

Patrick turns around, a Chesire-cat-like smile plastered on his face.

“It means that you and Segs are like, banging. You know, getting it on Doing the deed. You know like me and Jonny? C’mon, I know that he told you. Don’t be shy! You put your thang in Seggy like Jonny puts his—”

“That’s enough Kaner.”

Jonathan looks about as mortified as Mark feels like he can’t believe that this is the person he tied himself to. Mark feels genuinely embarrassed for him. He can’t imagine having his significant other blab to a practical stranger about their sex life. Especially in such a public setting, with his teammates walking by them to get to the ice (although none of them seem to be phased). Mark sort of wonders if he should be worried about Jonathan’s sanity.

“Nah man, I’m just kidding. I know you ain’t got nothing going on with Segs. But, I’m pretty sure that most of the league thinks you do,” Patrick says unabashedly, placing a friendly hand on Mark’s shoulder.

Mark fights the urge to shake it off. Sure, he’s friendly with Patrick, but considering he just told Mark that most of the league considers him and Segs a thing, he kind of wants some time to process it. Although, it isn’t likely that he’ll get any.

“Then who started the rumour? Cause it wasn’t me. Or Segs, hopefully.”

Now, Patrick doesn’t look as cocky or shameless. He just seems, frankly, dumbfounded, that Mark doesn’t know.

“Well, who do you think? Jonny fought the guy two weeks ago. It was Jamie Benn.”

And… yeah, that shouldn’t catch Mark off guard at all. But it still does, but fricking heck, Segs said he would deal with it. Jonathan and Patrick are walking away now, apparently being called onto the ice by their coach, but Mark still can’t hear over the ringing in his ears. Screw Jamie Benn and whatever his problem is. He doesn’t have the permission to screw with Mark’s mind this close to the playoffs.

Jamie better watch his back.

* * *

The Jets don’t play the Stars until next season, which is probably a good thing because Mark was being a little bit irrational. Fighting Jamie Benn would only end badly for him. But, that doesn’t mean that Jamie Benn stops being an influence in his life. When the Jets play the Kings, Drew Doughty shoves him into Helley while simultaneously yelling “Seggy’s Boy” consistently into his ear. Brad Marchand screams “Segs’s Little Bitch” at him from the opposing bench when they play the Bruins at home. It doesn’t even end there. Multiple players from multiple teams all call him some sort of variation of “Seggy’s Boy” in the two weeks leading up to the playoffs. Mark really, really hates it, but he’s soft, so it’s not like he fights someone about it. He just wants the playoffs to start already, so hockey can stray away from just the chirping and get back to playing the game.

Their second last game of the season is in Colorado, and Mark is still sort of recoiling from what he had heard in Toronto two nights before. Apparently, Marns had hopped onto the “Seggy’s Boy” train and had spent the majority of the game chirping him about “going home to meet Segs parents” and “always leaving the locker room late after practice”. It had hit a little too close to home for him because it’s not like he can deny that he did go to Segs’s house a lot or that he did leave late after practice. And Marns was his friend, so Mark didn’t want to tell him to screw off. He wants to shake his words off though, and getting a win in Colorado would help, immensely.

Most of the guys are pretty keyed up, mainly because they’ve already clinched and a lot of the guys playing aren’t regulars. Coach had wanted to rest some of the guys, including Mark, but he decided he kind of wanted to play. After all, it did the team no good if he was sitting out, and he also didn’t want to be rusty for the playoffs.

Mark is playing two-touch in the outside the locker room with some of the guys, but he’s pretty terrible at it, so he doesn’t last very long. Which is okay he guesses, because he usually banks on failing at two-touch so he has time to do his stretches. He grabs a mat from the bin next to the locker room, thanking the hockey gods that he doesn’t have to do lunges on solid concrete. He’s just rolling it out when he feels someone shove him roughly from behind.

He turns around instinctively (he really should have learned his lesson with Segs) and gets ambushed by… Tyson Barrie?

“Why. Won’t. You. Stay. Away. From. Segs?” Tyson asks him, punctuating each word with a harsh hit to Mark’s chest.

Mark’s back slams into something solid, and oh, it’s not a concrete pillar. No, it’s probably worse for Tyson, because it’s Wheels, who looks epically pissed off at Tyson. Who, speaking of, shouldn’t even be here in the first place. He has his own locker room, and everyone from here to the KHL and back knows that it isn’t cool to invade another team’s locker room before a game. If Tyson wanted to talk to Mark, he should have asked to go to dinner with him or something. Not barge into a locker room with 22 guys from a rival team.

Tyson seems to be realizing his mistake now because he looks incredibly sheepish and less angry than he was before. He must have decided that taking on Mark in front of 22 giant masses of man wasn’t a good idea. Wheels is straight-up glaring at Tyson now, and for a second, Mark legitimately thinks that an all-out brawl is going to start.

Fortunately for Tyson, Gabriel Landeskog comes running into the room, panting like he had been doing a bag skate. He spots Tyson almost immediately and quickly tugs him away from the rest of the Jets. He looks embarrassed as if he can’t believe that his top defenceman would do this.

“Oh, man. It’s really nice to see you guys before we hit the ice. We’ll be leaving now. Good—”

Before he and Tyson can make their much-needed escape, two of the callups from the Moose block their path, clearly willing to protect their A. But Mark really doesn’t need it, so he gives them a little nod, and they let Tyson and Gabriel through. Gabriel looks like he’s never been more thankful for anything in his life, but Tyson seems pissed that his captain had to save him from that situation.

And it seems like Tyson can’t resist throwing one last barb at Mark because he throws out a “You’d better be careful Scheifele.”

Most of the guys ignore the little interruption and go back to playing two-touch, but Wheels is still standing a-ten-hut behind him. Mark begins to make his escape, but Wheels grabs him by the elbow and yanks him back, which is pretty embarrassing because Mark doesn’t want to have this conversation right now.

“Scheifs…” Wheels says, in a warning tone.

Mark winces, but he hopes that if he pretends that he doesn’t know what the heck is going on (which, he really doesn’t), he can get out of what he knows will be a painfully awkward conversation.

“Wheels? What’s up?” Mark asks, going for nonchalant.

Clearly, it doesn’t work because Wheels just gives him a knowing look, which… if Mark had to rank it up against Jonny’s Tazer-Laser Stare, it would be soooo much worse.

“Look,” Wheels says, scrubbing his hand across his face, exasperated. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and Benn and all that, but just, get it out of your system. Fight him, yell at him, whatever. You can’t be distracting the team with this right now.”

And the thing is, Mark knows. Mark KNOWS. Losing to Anaheim in 4, getting swept, three years ago was terrible, and he knows none of the guys nor the fans want to go through that again. He wants to win for his team, but Wheels needs to know that he isn’t the one who started it.

“It’s not my issue to deal with, it’s Segs,” is what Mark finds himself blurting out.

Wheels is pinching his nose like he can’t believe how dumb Mark is being right now.

“I don’t care if it’s Sidney Crosby’s problem, I just care that it’s now messing with the team. And the fact that you haven’t done anything about it makes it your problem. If Tyler promised to fix it like you said he did, he would’ve done it by now. Maybe it’s time to consider that he might not be on your side here. That means the other two instigators are you and Benn, and since Benn tried to knock you out the last time you saw each other, the only rational one is you. So, as your captain, I’m telling you to fix it or don’t. Whatever you do, it can’t be messing with the team like it did today.”

Mark hates that Wheels is so wise.

* * *

It’s not like Mark doesn’t try to heal things between him and Jamie Benn. He snags Benn’s number from Jonathan Toews during the Jets’ last game in Chicago, and he shoots Jamie a text a few weeks after the Jets get eliminated from the playoffs.

“Hey, we need to talk,” is all it says.

Mark doesn’t get a message back, even though it had been weeks since he sent it. Segs was also nowhere to be found, although the summer training group had started up weeks ago. Mark hadn’t heard from his supposed best-friend in weeks, which means he’s stuck wondering what the heck is going on between all of them. He thinks that maybe Wheels is right. Maybe he should consider not being friends with Segs anymore, considering he’s kind of been a bad friend anyways.

But, one morning in June, Mark wakes up to a text from Segs. Which, finally! Mark was pretty sure he had sent him a million texts and called him a couple thousand times.

“So,” is what it says, “I think I figured out y Jamie is mad at u.”

What he sees next scars Mark so badly that he seriously considers stopping being friends with Segs again.

Segs sends him two photos, one of which is the completely naked backside of one Jamie Benn, with the white covers pulled up to halfway up his butt and the sun shining through an open window onto his neck. Jamie looks like he’s sleeping, which means the photo was NOT his idea (and Mark knows that will turn into a mess) and his hair is stuck in a tall cowlick. The second photo is of Segs, and it looks to have been taken sometime at night. It’s blurry, but Mark can make out a nude Segs with an Olympic gold medal around his neck. It looks like it’s from Sochi, which is weird cause Segs didn’t even go to… oh.

Mark sends, “R u n Benn? Doing the Kane-Toews thing?”

“😉🍑🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆” is what he gets back, which is really so immature.

Mark rolls his eyes instinctively, even though Segs isn’t there to see it.

“Cool Segs. Just don’t injure urself 2 much cause we still have to train this ☀️.”

Mark receives a string of peach emojis 🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑.

“Relax Scheifs, I’ll be b back in TO next week. Bringing J with me, but y’all don’t gotta talk if u don’t wanna.”

It’s clear that Segs does want them to sit down and talk about their issues, but Mark knows that they all aren’t ready for that just yet. He should probably let them get their feet under them in their relationship first and then sort it out. Things have cooled down, and they do need to have a real conversation about it sometime soon, but it might still be too fresh and bring up bad stuff for the newly minted couple. And frankly, Mark hasn’t gotten over his instinct to sock Jamie in the face. It’ll probably be good to give it some resting time.

“Nah Segs, but set 1 up 4 the season.”

* * *

Segs does set up a dinner for the next time the Jets are in Dallas, which happens to be the second game of the season. They’re at some steakhouse a couple of blocks away from his hotel, and Mark is actually laughing his head off because Jamie and Segs are in total “incognito” gear, which really just means all dark everything, sunglasses, and very inconspicuous baseball caps. They look like Captain America whenever he’s trying to hide.

By the time he stops laughing, the waiter has brought out the menus and Segs is glaring at him, while Jamie is giving him a constipated look. He ignores both of them and orders a NY strip.

Segs gets pasta, which is probably a bad idea because they’re at a steakhouse, not an Italian restaurant, and Jamie gets some weird vegetarian dish because according to Segs, his metabolism is off. Mark doesn’t say anything about it, but clearly the two are so freaking co-dependent that Segs knows about the state of Jamie’s metabolism. Which is honestly really good. Mark hasn’t seen Segs this happy, maybe ever, but he’s glad that his friend has someone to lean on. If only they weren’t being disgustingly sweet about it in front of him.

They make small talk over dinner, asking about summer training and team predictions. Segs had spent half of the summer in Victoria and half in Toronto, so he was curious about what the rest of the GTA crew got up to when he wasn’t around. Mark fills him in about it, mainly talking about the new apartment Marns bought and how Davo had almost fallen off of his balcony trying to kill a spider. Segs had chuckled at the latter, spewing chirps about how that’s “so Davo” and how “J would do the exact same thing.” The conversation between Mark and Jamie, though, doesn’t flow as well, more like awkward, stunted sentences here and there, which resulted in a complete lull when Segs went to the bathroom.

When he comes back, it seems like he is a man with a mission. Segs gives Jamie a handful of pointed looks as Mark forks over his credit card (“Visitor pays sucka!” Segs had yelled). Mark gets the bill back in no time at all and is standing up to grab his coat, when Jamie, of all people, makes PHYSICAL CONTACT with him and gently stops him.

“Mark,” Jamie says, teeth gritted. “I’m sorry.”

It looks like the words physically pain him to say.

“It wasn’t right for me to be angry at you,” Jamie mumbles, and Mark strains to hear it over the noise of the restaurant.

“I was dealing with my own feelings for Segs, and I got really angry at you for no reason. I know that you guys are just friends now, and I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

Jamie is beet red now and isn’t even looking at Mark, like he’s so embarrassed that he can’t even meet his eyes. Mark kind of isn’t sure what to say. On the one hand, Jamie practically tortured him for all of last year, and even got other players in the league on it. But on the other hand, he can see how this weird co-dependent relationship means to Segs, and he doesn’t think it would be right for his best-friend (Mark, obviously) to hate his boyfriend without at least giving him a chance. And while some may argue that he already has given Jamie a chance, he figures that this is the first time they’ve actually had a proper conversation about the situation, and it would be worth it to try to get to know the real Jamie outside of the mind games.

He must be taking too long to answer because Segs elbows Jamie in the gut, which makes him double over a little bit. When he catches his breath though, he manages to grind out,

“I’m sorry about getting the League to call you Seggy’s Boy too.”

Mark snorts under his breath.

“Look Benn,” Mark says, clapping a hard shoulder on Jamie’s shoulder, hoping that he’s achieving the “I don’t approve yet, but convince me” thing. “I’m not 100% for you yet, but buy me dinner the next time we’re all in Winnipeg, and we’ll see.”

Jamie pretty much buys out the entire Forks’ Old Spaghetti Factory, and Mark thinks that’s probably satisfactory enough. For now.

* * *

Mark and Segs still play rock, paper, scissors pretty regularly, even though Segs starts resorting to dirty, cheating methods. Yes, getting off the ice and then getting back on totally doesn’t count in Mark’s book. He and Chubbs are pretty solid too, and Mark can even say that they are so good with each other that Chubbs has set up a two-week golfing trip just for the two of them in late August. Segs is pretty angry about that, whining to Mark constantly about how it’s so unfair that Mark and Chubbs are now best friends because “You were my best-friend firsttttt Scheifs!”

And yeah, maybe it took them a long time to get there. And yeah, he’s never going to get over the fact that Segs and Chubbs have sex on the freaking regular (and even once in his bathroom, GROSS). And yeah, rock, paper, scissors is still as ridiculous as ever. 

But, Mark got two great best friends out of it, and really, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
